Electric Church SS: Vegas Demonstration
by RailgunBandicoot
Summary: Before the Railgun encountered the holder of 103000 ancient texts, two strong individuals have crossed paths in the most unpredictable place on Earth; Las Vegas. One has arrived to showcase his power, the other came to hunt down a holy assassin who could burn a nation to its feet. What will commence when these two cross roads?


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**~RailgunBandicoot~**

* * *

><p><strong>June 9, 10:15 AM, Flight 702<strong>

Everything began with a calming three-note charm.

_"Attention passengers, we'll be arriving in Las Vegas shortly. Please fasten your seat-belts and remain seated at this time,"_ a female voice gave the few hundred passengers instructions for landing preparations over the PA.

"HOLY SHIT!"

In one of the bathroom stalls, the door slams open, merely grabbing everyone's attention. And out came Crash, panicked by the PA's orders as he rushed to make it back in seat before gravity could kill him. About an two hours ago he passed out in the stall from being on this flight for about ten hours, but this rude awakening accidentally caused a burst of excitement amongst the other passengers. Businessmen widened their eyes at the bandicoot, American tourists returning from Academy City wheezed in laughter by the Level 5's outburst, and some babies woke up crying as their parents tried to help them relax.

Thankfully, Crash returned to his seat and snatched his seat belt on time. His leather jacket was so loose, the shocked man beside him could see the Fairy Tail symbol visible on his t-shirt.

One of the plane's female servers approached him about his current situation.

"Excuse me, s-"

"I MADE IT!" Crash screamed, shocking the server, the guy next to him, and everyone on the plane AGAIN.

* * *

><p><strong>Half an Hour Later, Las Vegas Airport<strong>

_"Hello?"_

"Komoe-chan, I've shaken hands with the Vegas airline."

Crash walked upon the the grounds known as Las Vegas, now more collective over his own sanity. He looked around the airport while he talked with his homeroom teacher, Komoe Tsukuyomi, over the phone. And as he passed under the neon sign that read "Welcome to Las Vegas" in bold English and stood on the descending escalator, the Orange Tornado discussed with his Sensei of why he's in Las Vegas in the first place.

_"You're there already? That's good to hear,"_ Komoe congratulated her pupil on making it to the state of Nevada.

A week ago, Kitakobushi's principal was contacted by Sin City's mayor. He announced a special event in which Academy City representatives will showcase their highly advanced technology, offer discounted scholarships and business trades for students, and provide a special demonstration of esper abilities by one of the six Level Fives.

The Vegas mayor was turned down when he asked to use Academy City's two strongest espers. No response came through when reaching Number 1, and Tokiwadai refused to use Mikoto Misaka due to her studying for an unknown test; so that's when he contacted Kitakobushi Academy to use Crash, in which success was given. His principal personally told him that the demonstration will act as a replacement of his final exam and will let him start his summer vacation early.

While schools in Japan begin their school years in April, Academy City take a different route and starts their school years in September the same way in North America. This fact flipped the rest of Japan's economy on its back, struggling like a turtle to return on all-fours.

Crash still remembered the deal he made with his principal.

* * *

><p><strong>One Week Ago, Academy City, Kitakobushi Academy<strong>

He remembered how the chair he sat in felt when the headman of his school reported him to the office.

"You must be curious to why I've called you here," his principal reclaims the interruption from his lunch break.

"If an idiot vandalized the school some sort, it wasn't me!"

The principal chuckled with that thick mustache taped over his upper lip.

"Don't worry, Crash. You're not in trouble. I've brought you here because I have a proposition for you."

"Okay, what's up?"

"As you must know, Las Vegas has borrowed aspects of Academy City's technology thus the city's always thinking ahead of the future. In return, an event is held during this time of year to attest our current capabilities for its locals."

"This is interesting," Crash proposed his "boss" to continue with his fingers pressed together.

"Anyway, the mayor of Las Vegas contacted me of the requirement for a Level 5 esper to demonstrate how esper physics are plausible, and they want to use you as a reference. So will you-"

"If it's Vegas we're talkin' about, why in God's name would I say no!? Let's go for it!" Crash was all in at the time, seeing that he almost broke his chair by slamming his fist to the arm.

"Hold your horses there, boy," the principal calmed him down a bit. It's occasions such as this one where Crash grins with intense excitement, but the chairman managed to reduce his joy to explain some important details.

"There's a few things you have to keep in mind when you're there. First of all, I'm happy to say this trip and demonstration will replace your final exam, therefore allowing you to begin your summer vacation early. Second, Academy City officials will pay for your hotel reservation so there's no need to worry about financial needs. Now I'll be busy during the time of your visit, so we'll need a teacher to report your progress within the demonstration."

"Komoe-chan, that's all I have to say about that! So when do I go?"

"Next week," the principal replied back.

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day, Las Vegas Airport<strong>

And that's how Crash ended up in Las Vegas.

The escalator stairs sink into the lower floor as he disbands the contraption. City locals stare at him amazingly, caught by surprise that such an iconic esper from Academy City has come to station his visit.

"Isn't that Crash, the Orange Tornado?"

"Oh my God, man. I thought he was just an urban legend."

"Mommy, Mommy! I want to play with the big puppy!"

"Do you think the Orange Tornado is here for the esper demonstration?"

"YOU ROCK, O.T!"

Apparently the city knows he's here now.

"Komoe-chan, we have a problem," Crash realizes the mass amount of attention he's being given by locals and tourists alike. "A shitload of people know I'm here and I can't see the usher with my name on it."

The bandicoot's alerted that all this attention would lower his chances of finding a specific person holding his name on a sign.

_"Okay, I'll let you take this time to find your ride to the hotel. Call me you get there, okay?"_

"At where!? The hotel or the ride!? Don't leave me hanging, Komoe-cha-"

All he heard from his cellphone after that was an annoying beep. Crash ended the connection, digging deeper for his name as more pairs of eyes followed him.

"What the hell is he doing?"

"I think the Orange Tornado's lookin' for somethin'."

"Yo, this dumbass usher's holdin' some Chinese bullshit ova here."

"Don't be so racist, dude! Crash is from Academy City! Those are Japanese symbols he's holding up!"

_"What!?"_ Crash stopped to recall the source of an idiot local who couldn't tell the difference between Asian languages. Through all the clutter of humans in front of him, he found what he was looking for. Two hands held up a sign with his name on it, and it's in his native language too. How convenient!

"Mr. Crash is over here!"

The orange fuzzball screamed out his relevance even more. This crowd didn't know much of his origin, but the variety of humans understood Crash was an important specimen to Academy City and cleared a visible path for him. Dozens of American eyes happily gazed at the walking mutant, making him feel awkwardly uncomfortable when passing the biologic columns.

Standing at the end was that usher holding the sign. This guy must of been in his mid-30's from how his face aged from the lapse of his birth. His mass muscular structure and towering height of 6'7 read that he's meant to be security at any night club, but Crash wondered the possibility if he chose the light of a professional wrestler instead.

_"No, that shit's always staged anyway."_

Seeing the bartender-like outfit on him helped emphasize the fact that pinning a guy for some heavyweight championship was uttered garbage.

* * *

><p><strong>10:56 AM, Las Vegas Blvd.<strong>

The good news was that Crash found his ride to the hotel that held his reservation. The bad news is there wasn't a group traveling with him in the slender black limousine. Aside from calling his teacher from time-to-time, nobody familiar was here in the red fabric insides to chat up a storm with him. The city specifically booked a room for him alone, so Crash didn't do anything but stare at the world-famous Strip that the "Devil's Playground" spawned from the ground long ago.

Iconic casinos and hotels passed through the frame of this shaded window, and the only nourishment this bandicoot could gulp down was a burger combo from a nearby MsGobble's. The buffed usher was kind enough to make that pit stop, knowing he must of been starving after a long flight here.

The sole objective of this trip was for the convenience for both Academy City and Las Vegas. Though it wasn't suppose to benefit Crash's satisfaction, it did anyway. He just couldn't say no to plummeting into this desert oasis; and his high sense of intelligence would of helped him ace his final exam if he actually did decline to this alternative.

Then the black window separating the driver and passenger came down.

"Sorry I didn't say it back at the airport, but welcome to Las Vegas, Crash."

"Finally, someone to talk to!"

Since the usher came in to drive him over to his hotel, he gave Crash a silent treatment. It's great now that the man's recognizing his fighting genius. The mirror stilted above the usher's head displayed a better view of his bald head and thick-black goatee drooping on his chin.

"Name's Trunks. It's quite the honor to meet someone such as you."

"Trunks? Like Vegeta's son? That name's so sick, dude!"

"Heh-heh! I suppose it is. So how do ya like the city? Ain't up to Academy City's technical jungle, but drivin' up and down the Strip never tires me of its character."

"Some parts are hurtin' my eyes, bro."

"That's nothin' to worry about," Trunks responded to Crash's honest critique on the Strip's structural layout. "Most of the first-time tourists have a hard time adjusting to the Semipublic AR, but they'll eventually get use to the feeling."

When Crash first glanced at the Vegas Strip, his vision got assaulted by nothing but static from everything, like they're actually giant TV monitors. But as the limo progressed closer to the hotel, most parts of the Strip finally visualized into actual structures... well, almost. Even with a shaded window protecting him, Crash's eyes strained on how the visuals were displayed. It didn't look like the buildings, signs and roads were even real in the slightest, they looked kind of digitized like computer photos. Crash has never seen anything like this in Academy City, Semipublic AR might of been something Las Vegas invented from his home's technology.

"In a nutshell, all outside structures are built from giant monitors. A ton of services collaborated in this field to help different individuals with their wanted information. If they want directions or ads of their interest, it's always there."

"So then everyone sees different shit? weird."

Crash understood that science, but his burger wasn't digital as he sank his teeth for another bite. It goes down the hatch to fill his stomach with fatty goodness that's a giant in the States. It didn't matter to him if he gained a little weight, he's just satisfied that it stopped his stomach's earthquake.

He brought himself to scan his eyes over the terrain that's been converted to a ridiculously huge touchscreen. Even though it strained his eyes a bit, Crash found this Vegas-built technology to be kind of unique, even if knowing its technical graphics were borrowed from Academy City.

And that wasn't just the only terms displayed on the Strip.

The limo stopped at a red light, and Crash noticed a billboard displaying the promotion of a new FPS (First-Person Shooter) game.

_"Wha- the hell!?"_

He could of listened to his own conscience and buy what it wanted, but he found the ad's content to be quite creepy, it even almost made him choke. The section of where the soldier is pasted was a photo of himself portrayed as a military personnel. It's spooky because Crash never signed any contracts to be part of a photo shoot for such an advertisement.

"Dude, what the hell happened?" Crash issued this strange coincidence to Trunks.

"What did happen?"

"On the thing right there!"

Crash made a pointing gesture to the creepy billboard with his slender finger.

"All I see is somethin' about shavers."

"Wha-? I'm in an FPS ad, for god sake!"

"Heh-heh-heh... Did you really see that?" Trunks chucked a bit when Crash mentioned what the Semipublic AR showed him.

"Sometimes the AR reads your passport and uses your photo ID recognition for various ads. The same happened to me once. It was an ad for some gym, I was a boxer punching a tiger in a woman's silk lingerie. Proves the AR can be an unpredictable in some way."

"Is that so?"

Crash felt better knowing that only he could see this display. Other than the fact that he's the poster boy of this profile, that billboard now looked kind of kick-ass with his image.

"Then I look bad-ass in that shit."

His own complement towards himself lead the Orange Tornado to a wide smirk through the passing casinos. It won't be long now till he arrives at the hotel.

* * *

><p><strong>11:06 AM, Las Vegas, The Luxor<strong>

He's here now. Crash departed from the limo and walked towards the Luxor, the hotel that Academy City booked his room at. It wasn't by his choice to where he took shelter in this playground of devils, he's just thankful that his home's municipal government decided to pay for these expenses.

After all, a free room's a free room.

The Orange Tornado made his route past the identical Sphinx replica and the set of giant pillars leading up to the black pyramid, an iconic landmark to Sin City's strip. Trunks was more than happy to assist Crash with his luggage. He had the strength to lift a lion while his other hand could knock down a wolf in one blow. It's that power in which Trunks gave those two suitcases a piggy-back ride.

They make entry into the Luxor. When Crash expected his eyes to vomit from the collage of electronic projections inside the main lobby, he was completely taken by surprise. This huge space actually looked like a normal structure.

Though Las Vegas' architecture visualized its textures with the Semipublic AR, the interiors of all its structures, including the Airport and this hotel's lobby, were not. Everything inside the Luxor's digital shell was real; from the check-in counters where countless tourists line up for their room bookings, to the collection of rooms towering over the unlimited sources of entertainment under this roof of four connected triangles.

Trunks stopped, making Crash halt too near the lines of median-wage families and business men all here for a different purpose. Most of them traveled all this way to experience the demonstration this bandicoot would provide in the upcoming convention.

"Like hell we'll be doin' that with you," the muscular server told Crash impatiently from seeing the vast length of these human centipedes. "You're our current guest of honor, your room's already waitin' for ya."

That statement followed with a refreshed smile, following with Trunks continuing to give a certain room its delivery. Aside from the jaws slit ajar from passing tourists who witnessed to catch a glimpse of the Orange Tornado in person, the elevators were the most confusing attraction the Luxor could ever offer. It was the same fancy-type one would see in the crustiest of upper crust locations. Nothing was obscene here, not even the wall windows that displayed the Luxor's selection entertainment as it climbs higher.

Once the guest escort settled into the box, off it went. When the elevator received the simple demand of a button press, the bizarreness kicked in when it's shown that the hieroglyphic box glided at a diagonal slant rather than just go vertically up. In fact, Crash realized this wasn't even an elevator at all; this was an inclinator, the only one of its kind in Las Vegas. This was when Crash and Trunks discussed why Academy City specifically selected the Luxor as the bandicoot's rest point.

"So where should I be at when the panel comes around?" Crash asked the helping ape.

"It ain't gonna be a panel. They're gonna give you an open stage to let ya do your thing. Somebody might get ya at noon or somethin' tomorrow."

It's a discussion about Crash's ability demonstration later on in the week, and that's because the convention will actually take place outside the Luxor itself. Today, the bandicoot had no specific duties related to the event he had to perform. All he needed was to confirm access into his booked room, give his teacher a call and he'll have the rest of the day for his satisfaction.

* * *

><p><strong>Floor 25<strong>

The inclinator ride took about a whole minute to reach the floor of his designated room. Because by the time Crash stepped through the opened doors after the box's halt, he could no longer see what this hotel held at its disposal. All this area offered was a short square ringed hallway decorated in the same Ancient Egyptian style this hotel's theme is based off. He and Trunks were located right on the top floor. That's a fact since 1, the inclinators are as close as they could get. And 2, there's only about 8 rooms available at this great of height.

He now faced one of these doors; Room 2504 to be exact, as said by the numbers engraved in the fogged window above.

"And here we are," Trunks claimed.

"Aren't we at here?"

"That's the deal your home town agreed to."

"I'll be done being at here when the event passes this at place."

"In the meantime, this keycard's gonna let ya into at here."

What started off with Crash performing a cartoon-based improv with Trunks resulted with the usher handing him a card. This was his only means of a key, so it's vivid for him to handle this rectangular chunk of plastic with good care. The card itself had the same numbers of the room printed on the front, 2504, placed as a reminder in case he forgot.

"I'm guessin' those packs of tourists are here for the demonstration, huh?" Crash whistled in another pointer.

It's definitely a pain in the ass to book a room for one of the Strip's iconic hotels, only to wait in a half-hour line to check into that room. Working at the Luxor for some time now, this is an expectation Trunks must plow through each day, but the crowds of people seem to have gotten larger than usual today. And that's because Crash's answer was correct; millions of tourists from every edge of the globe traveled here in packs, just for the event alone; to witness him slice and shoot shit up in the demonstration taking place in a couple of days. Booking for a place to pump off steam has gotten so ridiculous, the Luxor's staff had the issue of an interference that menaced against their star attraction's shelter.

"Yep, it's packin', alright," Trunks replied. "Gotta let ya know somethin' else before you do your thing."

"Hm?"

Trunks' face then displayed a feeling of regret and displeasure. Reading the raised eyebrows and clenched teeth shown on this worried usher, Crash now understood the hotel's staff screwed up somewhere in the crackle of bad news reaching his ears.

"I have to split the room with some American family, don't I."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that inconvenience, dude." Trunks didn't even need to confess the message to this guest of honor. Seeing those expanding snakes at the check-in counters was the only hint Crash could predict the future from correctly. "That guest crammed in just this morning, but she didn't have any followers upon her arrival."

"She came here alone?"

This was sudden news. Officials of Academy City personally told the bandicoot that his room was meant for him alone. Now that he's aware of an unexpected cramming with a total stranger, he wondered how those Officials would react.

Crash flipped the key card over and swiped it across the lock mechanism. Every big-chain hotel brand has these things above the door knob. The little monitor indicates your acceptance of access behind the locked door. That red X on the screen did a flipping transmission to a green circle with a beep of approval when the mutant motioned his arm to let the machine read his card's barcode. One twist of the knob and the two made entry past the quick test. The interior this room contained persuaded Crash into the solution to why he's splitting with another soul.

"A suite? Really?!"

"Huh, she's not here."

Silence was unlimited before that door opened to Crash's confirmation. The previous guest was MIA during this time, with only her bag of luggage proving she took over the living room at some point. With that aside, Academy City paying rent for an expensive suite was freaking sweet. Judging from how nice the furniture sat in Crash's visionary field, the estimated payment could be worth 75000 Yen ($750.00) per night, and he's lucky it's all free to his expense. Crash, of course, grinned stupidly with excitement from this discovery. With a space this ginormous, splitting it seemed logical and completely necessary.

Trunks then proceeded to find a section to store these suitcases while their owner voyaged a running tour of the suite, jumping in between rooms to inspect every fancy detail meant for the wealthy.

"Yo, Trunks!" Crash shouted happily through the master bedroom. "What's that chick like!?"

Knowing now that he's got a girl sharing this suite gave Crash the desired hunger for what her persona's like. He purged into the living room to witness Trunks, an employee of the Luxor, wheezing exposed laughter on the low leather couch. He's got one hand on his forehead under a face about to loose its aloof characteristics, so there must've been some hilarious story about that girl's personality.

"You've should of seen her, man." Trunks tried to explain without letting this funny experience to ruin his day's performance. "The chick's at some college age and is hot as hell, but she's demonstrated the best AR reaction I've seen in years. Heh-heh-heh-heh!"

Trunks is seriously finding it difficult to not permanently suppress this picture to freshly loop in the depths of his deepest memories. But with Crash curious, there's no option but to expose it.

"When directions show up in her perspective... Kah-ha-ha-ha-ha, she yelps like a little puppy every time. She's carrying a katana wherever she goes, and she's still behaving if she wasn't aware of our technology!"

Nothing helped Trunks to hold back the memory and he unlocked a burst of laughter, conducting the beloved Orange Tornado to chuckle with him.

"He-he. So if I happen to bump into her, she'll be easy to spot 'cause she'll do this the whole time."

Then Crash put on a skit that proves the point. He pretended to be a frightened little girl, lurking out high-pitched screams at random syllables. His short performance had Trunks laughing even harder, slapping the fine-crafted coffee table a couple times.

"Yes! That's exactly how she reacted!"

The muscular usher could no longer hold in his intentions on good humor. That goofy skit Crash pulled off took it too far and Trunks fell flat on his back, trying to escape the grasp of his emotions. When he finally held control of his nerves again, Crash stood opposed from him with a suitcase in his hands. He had this semantic grin on his face, an indication of how he knew something that Trunks didn't.

"Didn't these suitcases feel light to you?"

With the mention of that, Trunks hardly couldn't calculate the bags' weight due to his outstanding strength. If the cases felt too heavy to a skinny fellow, the usher wouldn't sweat even once from their containments. His mind messed up when the honored orange marsupial unpicked the locks.

Inside was nothing. All Crash took here were two empty shells of a suitcase duo; no shower implements, no clothing, nothing. He didn't need to prove the same with his other case. Swiftly grappling it above him in his right hand was a good enough explanation.

"These are just to hold my souvenirs," Crash claimed, laying the semi-square clams to his brown sneakers. "They'll feel heavy once I'm done here."

"So where's your-? Oh, I see what ya did there!"

"That's why my ability ain't called Requip for nothin'!"

Trunks picked up on what the Level 5 did with his packing. Before the flight, Crash used his ability as an advantage to pass airport security with no flaws. Like his weapons, he unequipped important utensils to his appearance such as his brand of toothpaste. When it's needed, Crash can just materialize the cleanser in his hand, exactly when he showed Trunks the basics of his power. Common household items kept popping into reality under the bandicoot's control, placing them onto the coffee table as he went on.

"Toothpaste, soap, shampoo, toothbrush, hair gel, manga..."

After he passed down his giant "High School of the Dead" omnibus, Crash compelled his body under the decadence of a heavenly glow. This white light bounced every stretch across the suite's living room with the polished hardwood furniture reflecting the shine. By the timing Trunks removed his arms covering his eyes, his response came after the light died as Crash concluded with...

"Even this fine piece of eye-candy!"

That casual leather jacket attire Crash accustomed to now had a classy black suit in its place. With the mutant being able to engineer different types of armor to his capacity, he can also do the same with normal clothing. Trunks gave him an awesome look; a rare expression in which he's been astonished by a phenomenon witnessed solely by his eyes. This ability would not be hidden from the general public. In a couple days, millions of tourists will gather here, all anxious to witness the demonstration for themselves. They too will be shown the psychic levels that Academy City alone can push you to your designated ability, much like Crash consuming himself with the white glow again. The light decreased again, and Crash was back in his usual jacket and jeans.

A slow applause came from the slaps between Trunks' large hands. "Your show's gonna be worth the hundred dollars, man. The lack of tourist satisfaction will definitely be zero."

Brainwave activity is essential to all living testaments, and Trunks would never forget this private demonstration. Crash made his route to the entry door.

"Well, I'm off to places!"

"Goin' so soon, huh?" asked Trunks, stopping Crash to turn his head at him. "I don't blame ya. Everybody wants their little Vegas oasis."

"Obviously I'm gonna transfer my spare Yen into American currency somewhere, then it's off to a few stores I've found on the web. Today's the only chance I have to roam freely."

"We've gotcha covered, man. There's a currency converter down at our bank in the main lobby. There might be a massive lineup, though, but I'll let the staff know you're comin' down."

"Thanks! Just one last thing before I jet. Who's that chick I'm splittin' this suite with?"

"Er... I don't quite remember her name, I hardly keep track of whose got which room. However, I did remember what her appearance was like. So these traits in mind in case you bump into her."

"Tell me these traits, Vetega. Jr!"

"Denim jacket, denim jeans, dark-purple ponytail!"

"Gooood Byyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Crash sang at a high pitch, opening the door to his exit.

* * *

><p><strong>11:19 AM, Main Lobby<strong>

By the time Crash left his comfort suite, Trunks soon followed after on a different road. He called Komoe Tsukuyomi while descending on the inclinator to personally thank her for her bail at the Airport. She knew now that the Luxor got its package when the call reached a conclusion.

This was now the only chance Crash had to have some fun while he's here. But first off, time to transfer his money into American Dollars. Crash laughed lightly, recalling the humor he read from the "Durarara!" light novels. If the Dollars did exist, a few members would of been buried within the huge crowd before him.

_"Ah, shit..."_

The sight was displeasing. Those check-in lines have gotten so big compared to last time, the snakes literally reached outside the front entrance. Crash was left with no choice but to suppress himself around the swarm. What other option did he have? A currency transfer was something he must fulfill on the soil foreign to him. Thankfully the bank was just across the armada, so the mutant made his move.

Now thinking about his current situation, Crash thought that barging through a crowded field was kinda bland and let out his true opinion... literally.

"Ladies and the men of gentleness!" he shouted across the lobby in English. "If you're all aware of it, I have to transfer my Yen and you're all blockin' my way! Because of your massive packs, I will now demonstrate my capacity without using my ability!"

Hundreds of eyes met him and the bandicoot was the center of attention, once again. Crash launched out a running start. Apprehensive whispers immediately fled through the crowd on what the hell he's doing. He was gonna do an exorbitant stunt for these fine people. Building up speed is now the top priority for a successful win. When the first line of shocked tourists were at an estimated 220 centimeters from his position, Crash crouched quickly to his final step. His body then rose, and he pushed himself off the crafted concrete. From how that first line seen Crash, he opened his wings like a crazy angel and rose above & over their heads. Once he landed, the orange marsupial jumped a second time.

Crash was indeed showing his acrobatic skills to the mortals, creatively using them as human hurdles. Every single time the ground met him between the lines, he soared up again, not hurting a visitor even once. In every jump that passed, Crash would usually perform a little parkour trick. He pretended to be a basketball player and struck out a pose of scoring team points from one leap. Crash hopped again, this time turning his whole body upside-down and locked in a chopper spin with his feet. The mutant now pushed out his weight with his arms into two hovering front flips. Aside from his Requip ability, Crash always had this clairvoyant sense warning him of upcoming danger, which rarely malfunctioned in his mind. It was fine today and the bandicoot latched out a pose upon the final landing. His bent knees refluxed him to a low level with his arms straightly stretched out to his sides.

Looking up, he saw his destination; the Luxor's banking partner! Crash was satisfied to his skill's content, but he also delivered satisfaction to others as well. An applauding roar murdered the dead silence when Crash returned to a stance. From both the lobby and bank, everybody here congratulated him with smiles of pure amazement. All of them cheered, clapped, whistled, and let out positive complements to the mutant's intense victory. He agreed to perform an ability demonstration under the supervision of Academy City and Las Vegas' council. An early show off of Crash's acrobatic skills was a planted memo for what guests of the convention tradeshow should expect from him, and their gratitude was key for a boost of self-confidence under his shades of orange. Crash smiled from the crowd's support.

"Thank you, Luxor People!" he shouted, phrasing his words in English once more. "If ya wanna see me actually use my ability, get your tickets to the Academy City tradeshow convention thing! That's the only way you'll see my full glory, so buy them bad boys while they're still around!"

Not only did Crash just pull off a perfect 10 for the judges, he personally helped the Luxor in promoting the tradeshow and his own esper ability demonstration. This current stunt will definitely be on the internet via phone camera video capture, spreading the word even more.

Crash successfully left a positive reputation for the event. But for now, he must transfer his loose cash into this country's form of currency. The orange-furred humanoid bandicoot went to do just that after happily leaving the tourists with one last regard.

"Remember this, children! Don't try drugs or do what I just did at home! I'LL BE HERE FOR THE WEEK, BABY!"

The stunt happened here so it'll stay here.

* * *

><p><strong>20 Minutes Later, Somewhere Off The Strip<strong>

A tight schedule had Crash on his toes. Tomorrow, he must attend a session with the event's staff regarding to where he needs to be and what he has to do during the event. Pretty sharp to be honest, but it might be simple procedures such as how the demonstration will play out or be stuck in a Q&A discussion about the SYSTEM Academy City produced. If there's one thing Crash looked forward to on tomorrow's schedule, it would be the prospected dinner with the mayor of Las Vegas himself. Since he's the one whose responsible for this orchestra, it makes perfect sense for him to also be present to the invitation.

This day was Crash's only chance to do what he wanted; Hunt for souvenirs and fill those two briefcases. He's got about $800.00 of cold hard cash in his pocket. For those criminals stupid enough to snag up the wallet of the Orange Tornado, a wild goose chase would be added to his bucket list. Nobody dared to show that sign of stupidity, thankfully.

Though it still made his eyes cringe a bit, the Semipublic AR was now Crash's personal wingman. His brainwave activity combined with addresses memorized and written in a pocket paper made the technology work its magic. Most of these boutiques were off the Strip, and the AR read Crash's mind and displayed a green line along the digital pathway, guiding him to his desired destination.

In the form of buses and an open subway line, public transportation was an option, but Crash went all in and chose to walk instead. Taking in the beauty of the Nevada desert's displaced playground just felt scenic to be experienced on foot to him. It's been about 20 minutes since Crash departed the Luxor and he's regained his feeling of thirst from the heatwave, despite finishing that drink along with that MsGobble's burger combo a while back.

_"Wait, if the AR responds to my personal requirements, than I should just think of bottled drinks."_

Crash halted. The green line below him hasn't made a slight budge since he'd began this "Holy Grail Quest." Now it's a good opportunity to see if the AR could really respond to his thoughts as quick as his brain. The slender bird and index fingers in his fingerless gloves crossed each hand as Crash repeatedly whispered and thought the same sentence with his eyes shut.

"Need a drink! Need a drink! Need a drink! Need a drink! Need a drink! Need a drink! Need a drink!"

_"DING!"_

A simple charm rang through the bandicoot's ears.

It was successful, just like his promotional stunt. Crash slit his eyes ajar and the green line now curved to the left instead of just going straight forward.

_"Hell yeah!"_

Following the new path, Crash confidently clenched his right fist into a sifting motion before reverting it back into a hand. The Semipublic AR did not fail the test run. It listened to the Orange Tornado's order and brought him to a simple resting point containing a vending machine. The place itself was comprised of a small park with the AR simulating the illusion of grass and brick pavement textures.

A diet iced-tea was Crash's beverage of choice. He gratefully gulped down the dispensed bottled liquid he'd paid for through the open cap. It was just in an hour that Crash had gotten used to the AR of Las Vegas, much to Trunks' prediction. If you estimate the current number of tourists in Sin City to just the applauding crowd in the Luxor's lobby, 99% of them will eventually get the hang of the complex contour of the AR.

As for the other 1%, it's just a matter of time before they go ballistic by the whole system.

"Why you stupid hunk of regurgitating electronic projection. I've had it with your uttered garbage."

The screams of a young woman have reached Crash's attention. Her angry tone sounded as if she's on the binge of conducting a genocide. In other words, she was that 1%. If there's one thing the Semipublic AR would be considered to do in its self defense, that would be sending an electrical impulse to stop the attacker. And it's not just for its own defense. If someone would even think of performing an act of crime such as a simple shoplifting, the Semipublic AR would instantly pick up the message and electrocute you before you could even commit the crime. This is why forms of all rubber footware are banned in Las Vegas. It's kind of pointless to wear rain boots in the middle of a desert, but there are criminals out there who've bought inner rubber soles for your shoes outside of Sin City's perimeter. That's why police always check inside their pursuer's shoes if the AR failed to shock them. If rubber soles are in their possession, they'll immediately get arrested as if they had illegal drugs.

Crash made his head turn the scream's source, and the personnel behind it took him by surprise. His eyes widened by pure coincidence when he laid eyes upon the lost maniac driven mad by her confusion with the Semipublic AR's capacity. When she fell to the mini-electrocution which forced her to stop under the system's command, Crash realized who this woman was.

_"Denim jacket, denim jeans, dark-purple ponytail, wielding a katana... Is that... my roommate?!"_

* * *

><p><strong>Hello, I'm RailgunBandicoot and welcome to the first side story of Electric Church! Around the time that I've finished Volume 1, I've went into full focus on the story of the early encounter between two weapon masters. If you did read the first Volume of Electric Church, you'll learn that Crash discovered the Magic side long before Mikoto did. Though our favorite electromaster's MIA in this little side project, the concept itself was inspired by the actual second Railgun side story where Mikoto heads to Russia for the same exact goal.<strong>

**Now, I chose Las Vegas as my setting because, you know... some mat call it the Devil's Playground. I almost agreed to the usage of a Magic God as one of the main characters. The character was my depiction of the Egyptian God, Anubis. It seemed like a good idea, but I scrapped the idea because it seems too early in the Electric Church timeline to bring in characters that powerful.  
><strong>

**When I did the Index arc way back in the original story, I felt like I've developed Kaori's character a lot more than anyone else, and this secret piece of EC history will aim at that, too.  
><strong>

**As for the next chapter, Crash makes his first encounter with Kaori Kanzaki, a saint associated with the Church of England. Soon our little orange bandicoot will soon unlock her true colors which also booms new questions. What does she do for a living? Why did she come to Las Vegas? And... What's with her babbling about magic? It's obviously not for a stage act, though! **

**~RailgunBandicoot~**


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